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end happened to be in January, 6 years
ago. The perfect time of year for shopping. All the
winter clothes are on the clearance racks and the new spring line is on the
regular racks. If the world had ended in June for example, there would only be
shorts, tank tops and bikinis in the stores. I don't think I've worn a swimsuit
since I was 9, let alone a bikini. So, there you go Aunty, I'm counting my
blessings.

 
    Aunty has once
again taken her place at the front door. She has no interest in this last stop,
having done all her shopping in classier stores. I vow to still like fun
clothes if I make it to old age. I stuff my bag full of cute shirts and
sweaters, silly T-shirts with funny slogans, and comfy socks and yoga pants for
sleeping in. I laugh out loud when I find a shirt that says "Zombies Just
Want Hugs" with a little mob of cartoon zombies, arms outstretched in
Frankenstein fashion. I smirk and grab one in Aunty's size.

 
    Running this
first load out to the car, I come back for another round. I keep expecting
Aunty to be impatient with my frivolous choices and how long I'm spending in
here, but she just seems happy that I'm relaxing and enjoying myself. Being a teenager and all. I pick out some cute necklaces and
put them all on to bring them home. One of them even has a cross on it. I grab
an identical cross necklace for my friend Harmony. Matching necklaces is kind
of dorky, but we're dorks. She'll like it.

 
    Then I spot the
cutest, most impractical shoes ever. Pink suede wedges with stripes of black
satin and a black satin strap with a round silver buckle on the ankle. I don't
own anything that matches them and they are one hundred percent unnecessary—I
must have them. Kicking off the brand new pink Adidas running shoes I just took
from the Adidas store, I try on the pink heels and stare at myself in the
spotty mirror.

 
      I am short and somewhat average; not skinny- minnie , but not chubby either. My long, curly brown hair is
usually knotted in a bun on my head, but today I left it down. I'm wearing all
new clothes and my new ruffly blue shirt doesn't
match the hip pink shoes. I can't think of anything I own that would go with
them, but they make me look taller. Studying myself in the mirror, I feel
pretty and confident. Maybe even kinda hot. Too bad the only person who's interested is Tim Markowitz. That glum
feeling that sometimes overtakes me when I think about my future among the
Living threatens to steal my pink shoe cheeriness.

 
    A huge crash in
the back of the store makes my stomach lurch and my heart fly into a panic. I
run for the door shooting frantic glances over my shoulder. I can't help but
think of the story Aunty just told me and, as I look behind me, I am just sure
I saw someone move there in the shadows. I flee out of the door that Aunty Coe
is holding open for me. We jog to the car with Aunty facing forward scanning
the parking lot and me jogging backwards, stumbling in the ridiculous pink high
heels, to make sure no one is coming after us. We reach the car and still no
one has come out of the store.
     
    "Clear!"   Aunty barks over her shoulder at me.

 
    "Clear!"
I yell back at her.

 
    "You forgot
to lock the car, Ivy!"   Her voice is
shrill and full of fear.

 
    Shoot!

 
    I forgot to
re-lock when I carried out that first load of bags. We jump in and quickly hit
the door lock.

 
    Before I can
even hope that we're safe, I smell him. Just a second before
he has his arm around my neck. It's the smell of rotting flesh and body
odor. The two smells, though equally gross, are in opposition to each other. The smell of death and the smell of activity and life. That's
what a zombie is, polar-opposites coexisting. Physically
alive, but spiritually dead. And cursed. He's
behind my seat and his grip is an iron band across my neck.

 
    I scream and
thrash, trying to pull away from him; but he's strong and he has all the advantage.
I'm strong too though, and harder to hold